As I lie, unsleeping or walk my dog, Shadow, alone,

through woods or other tranquil places,

my mind churns with thoughts and scenes

of long ago or as a break in an opaque fog;

to understand that which was once unfathomable.

The  thoughts, a concrete mix of words and ideas,

rumble and scratch, polishing, clinging or coating,

to finally be discharged into forms or molds,

prodded by pen or byte of my friendly Apple!

The forms, each one a piece of paper, or gleaming screen

force my mind to concentrate; to set the words

in orders dictated by meanings and elusive grammar.

What had seemed so simple becomes complex

losing the brilliance of that earlier sunlit phrase.

Shadow pauses to inhale an elusive scent,

Then trots along the leaf strewn trail,

a low way for newts, slugs and butterflies;

a background of bright berries and wild plants.

Peace but for the songbirds and a quivering rabbit.

A sunbeam highlights a gnarled tree trunk.

A dewdrop magnifies the beauty of a web.

Now the words run freely and my mind sings.

 

 

David Garlick, Sidney, September, 2006